


His Eyes- How They Twinkled

by chocobith



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Clint/Coulson Holiday Exchange, First Kiss, Getting Together, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, Secret Santa, naughty lists, stealth mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:47:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5582767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocobith/pseuds/chocobith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>University student Clint is doing his annual elf gig and meets Santa.  Now, the question is does he want to be a good boy or get on the Naughty List?</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Eyes- How They Twinkled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iloveitblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/gifts).



> She wanted sweet & fluffy, which wasn't a problem. As far as an AU with pining & coffee, I gave it my best shot. The boys did not want to cooperate with me and gave me this version instead.  
> I hope she enjoys it just as much!
> 
> Thanks to Nita for being my Beta again! You pick which list you're on and i know it depends on the Santa!

The screams echoed off the walls of the room accompanied by the thundering of running feet.  Clint narrowly dodged the small bodies hurtling past him, keeping an eye out for the stragglers.  He spotted one, smaller than the rest, struggling to keep up.  His eyes narrowed as he took in his target, arms tensing as he reached down.  Scooping the toddler up, he swung her into his arms, getting a stream of giggles as she went. 

“Lucy!  Where are you? “  Her mother walked over when she spotted Clint tossing Lucy in the air.  “Keep doing that Mr. Elf and you’ll find out exactly how many cookies she’s had.”  Clint handed Lucy over with a sheepish grin.  He watched the pair walk off into the crowd.  The party was in full swing and everyone was having a great time.  Pepper had outdone herself this year.  As president of the Student Association, she took her responsibilities seriously. Throughout the year, she worked tirelessly for the students she represented but the holidays were when she pulled out all the stops. She set up numerous donation drives for food, clothing and toys for the residents in student housing, usually families barely affording the cheap housing and tuition with little left for much else.  Then there were the inter-departmental gift exchanges for the TAs, caroling telegrams, Secret Santa Candygrams, anything Christmasy and festive, Pepper set it up.  Clint’s favorite was the annual party held for the university’s daycare.  The party was open for anyone associated with the university to bring their kids but it was set up primarily for the daycare.  Every year he volunteered to help out, usually assigned as one of Santa’s elves.  His circus skills were useful in keeping the kids occupied with magic tricks, juggling and tumbling while waiting for Santa to appear.

The only drawback was the costume but at least no one had to wear elf ears.  Candy cane striped tights, green knickers with a matching vest, and a candy cane striped long sleeved shirt, which he may have changed to short sleeves (long sleeves were constricting!).  The hat and shoe covers were the worse though, green felt with bells, itchy, hot and jangly.  He managed to talk Natasha into letting him lose the shoe covers in exchange for green sneakers but the hat had to stay.  Speaking of which, he saw a matching red felt, bell festooned monstrosity heading towards him. Nat walked up, “It’s almost time for Santa’s entrance. Bucky and I will sort out the gifts while you’re getting Mr. Claus from the dressing room.” Clint gave her a salute, almost knocking off his hat and walked towards the main office, which was being used as a changing room for the staff.

He could hear the complaining in the hallway. “Dammit Darcy, the beard is fine! I need to get the suit on!” “Look, I’m the make-up artist, emphasis on artist! It’s fine when I say it is!” Clint found Darcy spraying a man in the face, ignoring his spluttering and hacking. A pair of the bluest eyes he’d ever seen looked straight at him. “Please tell me you’re here to save me. She’s going to gas me to death.” Clint stared; trying to reconcile the Santa beard with the frame outlined underneath the t-shirt and boxer briefs standing before him. “He’s not here to save you, he’s here to rush me. Back off Barton, a true artiste is never rushed.” The brunette waved a blush brush in his direction, pulling his eyes away from the distractingly attractive Santa in front of him. “Actually, uh, Natasha sent me. You need to finish up, Santa’s got his fans waiting.” Clint looked over at Blue Eyes, smiling as he did so, “So, I guess I’m the one saving Santa after all. Does it get me on the nice list?” “It gets you on some list I’m sure”, Santa smiled back, at least Clint assumed he was since the beard was covering up most of his face.

“I’m pretty sure putting the moves on St. Nick will get you coal, even if you are an elf.” Darcy shoved the costume at Santa, “Get dressed, it’ll give him less to ogle.” The blush that crept up Santa’s neck was promising, Clint wondered how far down it went. “If you need help with that…Ow!” Clint spun around, rubbing the back of his head as Darcy glared at him. “Dude! Seriously! After the party, you can sit on his lap and tell him what a good boy you’ve been all year! Maybe he’ll even give you a candy cane to suck on!” Clint felt his face heat up, the blush spreading towards his god-awful hat. He glanced over at Santa, who despite his embarrassment had a definite twinkle in his eye. Before he could say anything, his phone went off. Nat’s text was pretty clear about which body part would suffer if he didn’t get the guest of honor to the party in the next ten seconds. Looked like telling Santa his wish list would have to wait.

It turned out that the wait was longer than he thought. Between herding the kids through the receiving line, sitting them on the lap, getting them to say their wish, snapping a picture, handing them a gift and candy cane, then waving them on their way, there had been no time to talk to Santa again. By the time the party was over, Santa was long gone. According to Nat, Blue Eyes had been a filler for Pat Garrett who decided that playing Santa for kids was beneath him but drinking till he passed out was not. She wasn’t sure who the guy had been, some friend of Pepper’s who was also TA but that was it. Clint had no luck finding anything else about him. With the end of the semester and the holiday coming up, he actually had no time to do so.

Sitting in the café after his last final, Clint stared at his grade sheets. All he had left to do was drop them off at the Art Programs office and he was officially on Christmas Break. There was a party that night for the all the university’s TAs at Stark’s house. Maybe if he was lucky, he might run into Blue Eyes there. If not, at least he could hang out and drink on Tony’s dime. On his way out to the quad, he saw Professor Blake. Of course he had questions for his TA, of course there was a student claiming unfair grading policies, of course they needed to review all the assignment sheets. And of course, it took over his entire afternoon. By the time he left Blake’s office with the beginnings of a tension headache, it was already dark. The party had already started and was probably in full swing. Great. He was going to be so late. At least he didn’t sign up to bring anything…oh no, the TA gift exchange. Ugh. He forgot to buy something for his person, some PhD student he’d never met. He didn’t have any idea what to get the guy, much less any time to go anywhere. He looked at his bag and had a sudden stroke of genius.

Clint got to the party in record time, having barely stopped in his room to change and set up his gift. He spotted Nat and Bucky in a corner, having some sort of intense conversation. Probably in Russian and about where to go drinking later, the two of them loved to have everyone imagine them planning secret spy missions. Rogers and Wilson were playing Mario Kart on the big screen, Stark whooping whenever Wilson got shelled. “Great job babe! Knew you could take him! Barton, glad you decided to honor us with your presence. You and Agent got the next round!” Agent? Who was that? Clint looked around but no one acknowledged the standard bizarre Stark nickname. “Ahem, that would be me,” said a faintly familiar voice behind him. Turning, he looked into a familiar pair of blue eyes. “Oh! Hey! It’s you!” His voice did not squeak, it definitely did not; it stayed manly and squeak free. This time he saw the smile; the beard had definitely been an injustice. “Yeah, it’s me. Phil Coulson pleased to officially meet you.” Clint shook his hand, noticing the firm grip and the faint callouses along it. “Clint Barton, unofficial elf and big Santa fan.” “I seem to recall a conversation about how much you like Santa. Still being a good boy or have you been naughty?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say how naughty he’d been and that he needed more punishment than coal, when the name registered. “Phil Coulson? You’re Phil Coulson? I got your name in the gift exchange!” Clint gaped at Coulson; seriously, his Santa crush was his exchange? What were the odds on that? “They already did the exchange. I figured I got skipped or something since no one gave me anything. So, my elf is giving me a gift? That’s a switch.” His eyes were definitely full of mischief, the twinkling blue almost sparking. Clint handed him an envelope, fidgeting when he realized how crumpled it looked after being jammed into his pocket. Coulson smiled at him, opening it and pulling out a purple piece of paper. “It’s for archery lessons. I do archery on the side, teach kids at the rec center on weekends. Five free lessons with me. I know it’s lame but I got bogged down during finals and came up with it last minute and…” his mouth snapped shut.

“Thank you. I’ve never done archery before. Did some shooting with the Rangers, but this is great, thanks.” Coulson was smiling again, a very open genuine smile. The expression made Clint’s stomach flip and his own grin brightened. “Hey, will you look at that! Barton, you’re under the mistletoe!” They both looked up, seeing one of Tony’s hoverspheres above them. It was laden with mistletoe. The group started chanting, kiss, kiss, kiss. Stark kept the sphere in place, watching them until he knew they were going to comply. “Well, can’t fight holiday traditions. I am Santa after all,” Coulson leaned towards him carefully. “Yeah, can’t put Santa on the naughty list. Well, unless it’s for a good reason,” Clint tilted his head slightly, adjusting for Coulson’s approach. “Oh trust me, Santa knows naughty. He created the list.” The warmth of Coulson’s lips covered Clint’s intake of breath. Oh, he was so working on getting onto that naughty list.  


End file.
